By which a man possesses or enters silence. Sometimes to be a hunter to language, his animal loneliness a blood ivy, sentient & oracular & a stalk’s clean break, soft and audible. Sequestered in water, attended but also severed, aroused. Heady as droplets on moss after drought, a man squeezes […]
Excerpt from The Call-out | Cat Fitzpatrick
from The Call-out Fortunate autumn. September rushesOver our heads. Migrating flocksOf warblers, jays, petrels, thrushes,Come, then leave. The equinox,When the sun aligns with the equator,Passes. The dawns start coming later,The sunsets sooner. The sudden rainsDon’t last for long. The warmth remains.Goldenrod blooms, and even the rosesAre hanging on, this late in […]
In the Style of Our Adornments | John Gallaher
It’s time to get serious. As in, these Breaking News storiesare getting monotonous, like a meeting agenda, or an air conditionerclicking on and off, a band practicing one room over, lists of the dead. I’m sorry and small, while along the west coast, romantic poetsare watching sunsets through clouds that […]
Now/here Fast: An Interview with Chris Campanioni
The hybrid writer discusses his latest book, the Internet is for real, and new horizons for identity in the digital age. Chris Campanioni wants to know if I think his newest book, the Internet is for real, is productively excessive. The request surprises me—not for its candor, but for the […]
Two Poems | Nora Claire Miller
The Hernia a girl came to my house but I had a herniaI showed her how to make me calmthe buttons on my head to presslittle knobs below my hairlineshe opened the windowbut I had a hernia so couldn’tget my breathing right we stayed up all night touchingthe knobs on […]
Two Poems | Tyler Morse
Back and On Down Okay so I’d buried her body in a shallow graveand told mom we couldn’t go back to the cabinbecause I’d never fed the dog & let it die but it wasthe woman. And had struck her. With shovel maybe.A tussle. Thinking you know when you molest […]
Excerpt from Feed | Tommy Pico
from Feed Dear reader, Candle light is not too poetic to mention in a poem if we say the light slicks across our faces like mud butt. The candle light slicked across our faces like mud butt. If I’d have known that was the last time I’d see his face lit […]
Women & Other Hostages | Laura McCullough
Everyone seemed stuck or silenced that summer, nobody’s T-shirt with the right slogan, the news shifting so fast, you couldn’t keep up with the latest outrage, & one person’s outrage was another’s fact, […]
Ginger Moon Bulb | Stella Santamaría
Stella Santamaría is a Latina Poet that lives in the San Francisco Bay Area. Stella is the author of In Between Spaces-Miami, and she has poems in Cathexis Northwest Press, Pennsylvania English, The Bohemian, and forthcoming in Juked. Currently, she is pursuing an MFA in Poetry at Saint Mary’s College of […]
“AT WHAT POINT DID YOU REALIZE THERE WAS SOMETHING VERY VERY WRONG?”: A Review of Andrea Abi-Karam’s EXTRATRANSMISSION
Andrea Abi-Karam’s debut poetry collection, EXTRATRANSMISSION (Kelsey Street Press, 2019), takes on military exploitation of human and animal bodies, the scourge of bro culture, and the Uber-fication of urban space. Their forceful, often capslocked lines pursue a “poetry of directness” in opposition to the pervasive, unrippling “language of avoidance” that […]
Nervous Break | Boona Daroom
Nervous Break National Guard units have mobilizedOn a syndicated game show. Today Contestants shoot up a dental labWith machine guns. I can feel it burn. Through the power of suggestion aloneWe see the quantity of fried chicken grow. I got here and there were 700 people in line.Massive liquidity courtesy […]
Ten Theories | A. Molotkov
Ten Theories 1 The street ends in a dead end, a space removed. Air currents flow around it. Fading gravity. You, inside, at least in theory. It takes a lot of bulbs to light the world. 2 I arrived before too early. I remember your birthmark. Now it’s no longer […]
Two Poems | O-Jeremiah Agbaakin
my God says it’s not in my job description to stay clean. hygiene is monetized farce. a trick to keep soap & rehab & the church & conscience & your silence in business. i scrub my own tongue hard to a shiny silence. a bad childhood stuttering cannot be blamed. […]
Still | Katherine Gibbel
Katherine Gibbel grew up in Brooklyn, New York. Her writing has been published in or is forthcoming from Bat City Review, The Bennington Review, Guesthouse, Tin House Online, and elsewhere. She has received fellowships from the Vermont Studio Center and the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where she received her MFA in […]
The Man With Blue Eyes | Samantha Lê
The Man With Blue Eyes i. legs like birch trunks stripped white by winter ginseng root toes mangled from wear chest scarred the color of wheat fields but he smears like wet ink when we touch ii. we celebrate the harvest moon forgetting to mourn the death of summer launched […]
The Spiral Path | James B. Nicola
The Spiral Path When it is three-dimensional or four how can you follow one, you ask. Think of a mountain road, up an ideal mountain too steep to climb directly. So you find the road that’s been paved before. It circles, rises, narrows to the summit a perfect apex with […]
Beeswax | Kelsey Ann Kerr
Beeswax This is the first time that I have cried in a long time, and I realize more than I ever have before what a good person Tom is. I am glad that he told me off. I did treat him like I was being his counsellor, and I […]
Two Poems | Anna Bernstein
The Third Eye Counts not at all. It rolls, unfocused and lashed shut, worm-white, unbidden by you in some place like the black void of a frying pan. It hides though it may not want to. After all, who bothers with an eye not yet accustomed even to soft […]
ROSA STRUGGLES: ADAPTS AND CONQUERS | Judith Cody
Envision the type of pathos that describes the true meaning of the Rose. It seems surely as if the Rose has come to mean more to us in a neurobiological or perhaps neuropsychological system of being, than a mere flower, a biologic entity evolved primarily for the propagation of a […]
Two Poems | Eileen Hennessy
DEPARTURE OF THE ARK At midnight it was still chewing quietly on its anchor chain while the puddles meandering along the waterfront engulfed the chunks of watermelon we had thrown overboard after our farewell picnic. At two a.m., sound of the waterfront tugs suddenly flapping and […]